


whisky and champagne

by amuk



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Missing Scene, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 02:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: Jack hated it when Miranda took them to some fancy bar, with food she could barely pronounce and drinks that were weaker than a Salarian’s stomach.





	whisky and champagne

**Author's Note:**

  * For [YourLocalPriestess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourLocalPriestess/gifts).



> Written for the Mass Effect Exchange, for YourLocalPriestess. I hope you like it!

 

“A teacher.” Miranda laughed with disbelief before taking a sip from some pink fruity drink. Despite how it looked, Jack knew there was some hard liquor in there. Just like the woman herself, even her food was deceptive. “You.”

 

“Yeah, me.” They were in one of those fancy bars Miranda liked, with food Jack could barely pronounce and that couldn’t fill more than a bird’s belly. Hell, it probably tasted worse than bird feed. They were just drinking, even the scummiest dive could handle that and for much cheaper. Scowling, Jack downed her entire shot. “What about it?”

 

“How did you make it through the interview?” Miranda set down her glass now, too amused to even drink. She laced her fingers, resting her chin on her hands. “Don’t tell me it was face to face.”

 

Jack didn’t dignify that with a response, instead signalling a waitress for a refill. The cups in this place were too small and the drinks weaker than a Salarian’s stomach.  Even the waitresses didn’t look right, belonging more to a runway than a bar, and she tried to reminder herself that it was Miranda’s turn to pick and that she had agreed to this arrangement for a reason.

 

“How’d they react to your first day?” Miranda’s lips curled up into a smirk, that egotistical smile that Jack had wanted to wipe away since the first met.

 

Next time, Jack was picking the worst possible bar with the worst possible drinks, if only to see her choke on one. She growled, “Shut up.”

 

“Or what, you’ll punish me?” Miranda took a delicate sip from her drink, a brow raising in challenge.

 

“Yeah.” Jack drawled, her scowl turning into a leer. If nothing else, at least they’d get kicked out. “Right here. In public. Don’t tempt me, cheerleader.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t mind.” Miranda’s smile was wanton now. She reached across the table and ensnared Jack’s before she could react. Her thumb slowly rubbed circle’s on Jack’s hand as she spoke, her voice low. “Only, I don’t have my cheerleader outfit and I know how much you like it.” Just as quickly, she let go and sat back, picking up her drink once more. “But you have a reputation to maintain now, don’t you? Being a role model and all?”

 

That turned on Jack more than she liked to admit. She gritted her teeth, she hated it when Miranda had the upper hand, hate it even more when she was right.  “They’re not in grade school, they can handle a raunchy story or two,” she grumbled.

 

“I’m sure you told them worse.” Miranda tapped her cheek. “And the school?”

 

Jack blanched. “Them…not so much.”

 

“Maybe after.” Miranda smiled more sincerely now, reaching out and squeezing Jack’s hand. “Now, what I really wanted to say—congratulations on the new job.”

 

“Thanks.” A soft clink as they tapped glasses before Jack downed in one go again. Yep, they really didn’t serve anything strong here.  “Thanks.”

 

“Despite what I said, I think it suits you.” Miranda added, stirring her drink slowly. “You look…calmer? At peace? Not quite like the bitch we broke out of prison.”

 

“Calmer? With those brats?” Jack snorted. “Besides, you were just as big a bitch.”

 

“Bigger,” Miranda corrected, because as usual, she had to be best.

 

“Bigger,” Jack repeated, rolling her eyes. She relaxed, rubbing her neck. “But yeah…I guess you’re right. I like it. Didn’t think I would, but I like it.”

 

“I’m glad.” She shifted her weight on her seat. The bar was full of tall, glass tables for two, with even higher stools. The seats were too small for anyone to sit on properly and Jack could feel the edges of her stool dig into her ass.

 

“I guess I got something from all of those missions,” she mumbled. Miranda smirked knowingly, her fucking perfect hearing picking up every word. Irritated, Jack leaned over and kissed the smirk off. Pulling back just a centimeter, her breath ghosting on Miranda’s skin, she sneered, “I told you to shut up.”

 

“Not much of a punishment.” Miranda kissed her back before she could pull away. Just as Jack was about to run her hand through her hair, they broke apart. “But you’ve always been bad at that.”

 

“Whatever.” Sitting back, she pressed her hands on the cool table. Her skin felt too hot here. “Anyways, you look better yourself. Your sister?”

 

“All sorted out now.” Miranda smiled gently, an expression so only gave when thinking about Ori, and there was something so open, so peaceful about it. “She’s safe.”

 

Jack looked away, not sure if she should be privy to that. Not sure if she wanted to be privy to that. They both had walls and now they both had them tore down. It was strange. Freeing but strange. She hated thinking about it, hated thinking so hard about anything, and fell back to her default response. “So, no more daddy issues?”

 

Miranda scowled. “I do not—”

 

There, that was better. Their usual setup, their usual configuration. Later, much later, Jack could figure out what they were becoming, but that was too much thought for tonight. Besides, Miranda was always hotter when she was angry. Resting her chin on a hand, she drawled, “Right, whatever you want to believe, cheerleader.”

 

This time, Miranda leaned forward and kissed her hard, grabbing her hair to pin her in place. When they parted, panting for breath, Jack jeered, “I thought I was punishing you?”

 

“Well, what can I say? I’m a sadist.” Miranda slipped off her chair, her hair still looking perfect and in place despite Jack’s best attempts to muss it. “Let’s go to the bathroom, there’s more room there.”

 

“Now you’re talking.” Jack trailed after her, a wicked smile on her face. Well, there was one good thing about such a high-class, expensive bar. The bathrooms here had to be spacious and clean. Well, after they were done, it’d just be spacious.

 


End file.
